


Afterwards

by BiP



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Afterwards at the Ritz, Episode Tag, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22749991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiP/pseuds/BiP
Summary: In which two soft man-shaped beings try to protect one another from certain - dare I say ineffable - truths, and admit to others.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 22





	Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @knobunny for the Good Omens Secret Santa exchange 2019.

Aziraphale sat on the bench, reveling in the sun and humanity and simply being alive, and trying not to fret that Crowley had still not shown up. He had been back up from Hell for an hour now; where on earth could his- the demon be? He tried to focus on the breeze (so different from Heaven and Hell both) and not how worried he was becoming as each moment passed with no shock of red hair-

No, wait - he was looking for his own pale hair, this body-swapping was so hard to keep track of! He still couldn’t believe they had pulled it off, or at least he had- but no, he would not think like that. Crowley had pulled it off too, he would be back, he would show up at any mo-

“Miss me, angel?” A voice behind him, his own voice but definitely Crowley’s inflection. Aziraphale jumped, then tutted in relief and vexation. 

“Oh thank the Lord, Crowley, I was beginning to think perhaps something had gone wrong.”

Crowley slid around the bench and slouched next to Aziraphale. So strange to see his own body slouching! Aziraphale twitched a little. 

“Not a bit of problem, just loads of paperwork,” said Crowley. 

Azirpahale wasn’t surprised at all. There was nothing that Gabriel loved more than paperwork, usually in triplicate. 

“I didn’t have to do any at all, don’t they have paperwork in Hell?”

“Oh, they do, they just forge it all after the fact and then file it where no one will ever see it again.” 

“Efficient.”

Crowley snorted, and abruptly changed the subject. “Do you think they’ll leave us alone now?” 

“At a guess, they’ll pretend it never happened.” Aziraphale sighed, feeling suddenly tired. 

Crowley hummed, agreement or disbelief Aziraphale couldn’t quite tell. 

“Right. Anyone looking?”

“Nobody. Right, swap back, then.”

Crowley held out his hand, and Aziraphale gladly took it. The swap wasn’t uncomfortable, but it made him itch under his skin. He wiggled a little to settle his form, and smiled at Crowley. 

“It’s so good to see you, my dearest, and not myself.” 

Crowley ducked his head and deflected the compliment. “A tartan collar. Really?” 

“Tartan is stylish,” Aziraphale spluttered. 

“So it all went well?” 

“I asked them for a rubber duck, and made the Archangel Michael miracle me a towel.” 

Crowley laughed, one of his best laughs, head thrown back. Aziraphale loved making him laugh like that. 

“They’ll leave us alone for a bit. If you ask me, both sides are going to use this as breathing space before the big one.”

“I thought that was the big one.” 

“No. For my money, the really big one is all of us against all of them.”

“What? Heaven and Hell against humanity?” Aziraphale’s mood took a slight dive, even more tired, and he looked around at the people enjoying the afternoon light. 

“Right.” Crowley sighed, and looked around. “Well, angel - time to leave the garden. Let me tempt you to a spot of lunch?” 

He was right - no way out but through, and Aziraphale had no regrets about choosing their side. Aziraphale wiggled again. “Temptation accomplished.”

Over dessert and coffee, and more champagne, they finally got around to their respective adventures. Aziraphale had been horrified at the mock trial, and told Crowley so.

“It was all for show and entertainment, dearest - you - I - didn’t even have a chance to explain yourself!” 

“It wouldn’t have made the slightest difference, angel; they weren’t planning to let us live past today.”

Aziraphale startled a bit. So it had been more than paperwork upstairs. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Quite sure.”

“Well, you had no trial, mock or otherwise - just a pillar of Hellfire brought up by an Eric. I stopped him from getting a few licks in but Gabriel - he’s really got it in for you, angel. Seems personal. And he expected you to just walk right into the fire, to do as you were told-”

“Dearest, of course that’s what he expects. I told you eleven years ago, I couldn’t just disobey, we aren’t built for it. But I think we are - I am - different - now, different enough that even had I been there, I would have fought. Thank you for taking such care of me.”

Crowley scowled. “That’s enough of that, angel.” 

Aziraphale continued. “And it’s not just me. Michael seemed to be very intent on your demise as well. Are you sure she doesn’t have some contact in Hell?”

Crowley shrugged. “Maybe? I mean obviously they had to come up with the idea for the trade somewhere.” He sipped his coffee, thinking. “But we do have breathing room, now - I’ve scared the angels quite a bit, breathing hellfire at them.” He laughed softly. 

Aziraphale joined him. “I thought Beelzebub was going to cry, they looked so terrified when I told them to leave you - us! - alone.”

Crowley laughed again, but was clearly distracted. 

“What are you thinking, my dear? Are you worried about the next war?”

“No, angel, I’m thinking that I’d like very much to kiss you.”

“I - I’m sorry?”

“I was afraid you might be. I’m sorry if I’m still moving to fast, I know we did just avert the apocalypse, but angel, I’ve been waiting forever and now that we’re on our own side - I just thought, maybe - never mi-”

He was cut off by Aziraphale taking his hand across the table, lifting it and pressing his lips first to Crowley’s knuckles, and then to the inside of his wrist. 

“This will have to do for the moment, darling; I’d like to be able to return to the Ritz someday.”


End file.
